Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I snort, drumming my fingers on the table because she’s right.
Dex and I pulled some crazy shit back in the day. Patton had to work to keep up when he got older. It used to drive Mom insane.
But we’re not here to talk about my past or even Colt.
I just wanted to get her mind unpanicked, make her feel comfortable enough to talk about whatever it is that made her melt down.
“I guess you’ve got questions,” she says in a quiet, hurt voice that’s somehow worse than the tears.
“You know I do.”
“Right. Yeah. Because of the crying and bee freakout…” She levels a cool stare on me. “Bees are important, though. You shouldn’t kill them.”
“Noted,” I clip.
“But fine—fine—so maybe there’s something else going on with me.”
I don’t mean to look at the garbage bag again, but I can’t help it.
Winnie notices and her shoulders sag.
“It was supposed to be my honeymoon,” she whispers. I keep silent, just watching her as she lets the words sink in. The hurt lining her eyes and mouth make her look older, though she can’t be more than mid-twenties.
“Here?” I ask when she doesn’t add anything.
“Oh, no. Not here. Although this place would make an amazing honeymoon suite if you wanted to market it as one. We were actually going to Italy. Florence, then on to Venice and Rome.”
“Romantic choice.”
“Yes, well…” She sighs again. “Long story short, the whole thing collapsed at the last minute. I was having doubts and decided I couldn’t do it, so I left.” Her words hang in the air for a second like she wishes she could snatch them back. “And I don’t think my family will ever forgive me. I basically stranded him at the altar, or close enough.”
Fuck, that’s harsh.
I tap a finger against the coffee table as I think. The dress in that bag suggests she was wearing it when she arrived, which underscores how ‘last minute’ she means.
And she was the one who left him.
Maybe she’s still in love with her fiancé or there’s some other scandal there, but that’s not my problem.
Mine is the fire-breathing father who called, demanding his daughter’s whereabouts. I wonder how he thought to call us if this wasn’t a honeymoon destination.
Did he hit up every decent rental option in the state?
Winnie laces her fingers together and leans back in her seat, facing me with surprising directness, considering how she just cried all over my suit jacket.
“I’m hiding out, in case it wasn’t obvious,” she says, her voice clear.
“I gathered that,” I say dryly.
“Oh, right.”
“And your dad wants to know where you are.”
She winces. “Can we just leave him out of this for a bit? I want to talk about me. Or at least, the option of me staying longer.”
Whatever.
I told her I could be convinced, but she’s going to have to sell it—and hard. Make me believe I’m not fucking up royally by letting an unstable, heartbroken stranger crash in our star property.
My brothers can confirm I’m not the softhearted one.
I don’t hand out favors left and right.
If you want a softie, try Patton.
Or even Dexter now that he’s married. Juniper turned him into one more of those marshmallows she puts in her Rocky Road cupcakes.
Me, I’ve never had much reason to let emotions threaten my business.
Even if seeing her cry like this with all her unfiltered hurt gives me the weirdest ache in my chest, along with this annoying urge to help her feel better.
But I already opened my mouth.
I told her we might work something out, and I meant it.
“Convince me,” I say point-blank. “Why should I let you stay?”
“Because I’d pay you?” She raises her brows.
“A reason that makes it worth the potential shit your father will fling my way when I’m covering for you, I mean.”
“You’re worried about that?” She waves a dismissive hand. “All you have to do is use that voice. You know, the dad voice you’ve used before. Just tell him you can’t give away client details, and voilà, case closed. He’s a legal wonk, he’ll totally understand.”
Like hell.
In my experience, people as persistent as her old man rarely fuck off just because you tell them to.
There’s something about the way she props her chin up on her hands as she looks at me, waiting for me to agree. It makes me curious what she’ll say next.
“Okay, let’s table that for now,” I say carefully. “Tell me, why do you want to stay here?”
Her lips curl into a smile that dimples one cheek, an uneven look matching the chaotic hair and teasing light in her eyes. “Do you always play grand inquisitor with all your guests?”
“Only the ones who spell trouble.”
“You’re afraid of me? Seriously?” She huffs loudly. “What? Are you afraid I might cry you to death?” Her expression tightens a fraction and she adds, “I really am sorry about that, by the way.”